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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29731998">did i close my fist around something delicate?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrumqueen/pseuds/electrumqueen'>electrumqueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>if this is the long haul [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Past Brainwashing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:01:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29731998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrumqueen/pseuds/electrumqueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Now McCree stood here, looking shy of his eighteen years, refusing to look confused or nervous because Gabriel had trained that out of him. He made himself look comfortable, standing there buried by thousands of tonnes of earth. It was only because Gabriel had taught McCree to cover his tells that he saw them: the faint curl of his fingers towards the palm of his left hand, the press of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Jesse McCree was shit your pants terrified. <br/>Pride swelled in Gabriel, both at McCree's correct understanding that he was, in fact, in serious danger, and at the knowledge that he had come anyway, with his head high, wearing that stupid goddamn hat, because Gabriel had ordered it of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesse McCree &amp; Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes &amp; Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>if this is the long haul [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The argument for McCree was this: as much as Gabriel hated to admit it, he was disposable. The thought of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> made Gabriel's stomach twist unpleasantly, but it was true. The kid was just a little gangbanger with a great shot, and even Jack thought he was a lost cause, just another Reyes Hail Mary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If McCree disappeared for real, Gabriel would be the only person to miss him. It wasn't any way for a kid to grow up, but Gabriel hadn't been the one to make him. Just the one to drag him out of the dirt and clean him off. He wasn't even on the books with Overwatch proper. If he disappeared it'd be a blip, not even the red rubber stamp for all the soldiers who hadn't made it out of SEP. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jefe</span>
  </em>
  <span>," McCree said, bright eyed and bushy tailed. He drew the pause out, eyes on Jack's to make the point. "Strike Commander."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Little shit, Gabriel thought, but with a warmth he couldn't shake. Jessito was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the way he'd thought Jack had been, but for real.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid was 90% attitude 10% that unreal shot. Maybe an extra 5% that stupid hat. Gabriel hated to think that he liked the hat. Not the hat itself, stupid fucking cowboy cosplay that it was, but that it meant McCree was his own man. Gabriel was full of shit, obviously, but he was a CO now so it was his right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks for coming," Jack said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree flicked his eyes to Gabriel; Gabriel suppressed a smirk and nodded, a small thing but one that Jack was sure as hell paying attention to. "Anytime, Strike Commander," McCree drawled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They'd asked him to meet them deep under Overwatch, somewhere he'd never normally have permission. Athena was blind and dumb down here, practically lobotomized; it wasn't a common access area. Gabe had coded the keycard he had pressed into McCree's hand himself, and would incinerate it personally when this was done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now McCree stood here, looking shy of his eighteen years, refusing to look confused or nervous because Gabriel had trained that out of him. He made himself look comfortable, standing there buried by thousands of tonnes of earth. It was only because Gabriel had taught McCree to cover his tells that he saw them: the faint curl of his fingers towards the palm of his left hand, the press of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Jesse McCree was shit your pants terrified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pride swelled in Gabriel, both at McCree's correct understanding that he was, in fact, in serious danger, and at the knowledge that he had come anyway, with his head high, wearing that stupid goddamn hat, because Gabriel had ordered it of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let that satisfaction colour his tone as he spoke. "You understand," he said, "that this isn't for Overwatch. It isn't even for Blackwatch. It's for me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree nodded. Didn't miss a beat. "I do, sir. You made it clear before." Acne marched up the sides of his cheeks, no doubt exacerbated by the cigarettes he always had a fresh pack of on base. He wasn't as skinny as he'd been when Gabriel pulled him out of the desert, some of the endless training paying off, but he was still gangly, a little out of sync with his newly-long limbs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack's eyes burned a hole in the back of Gabriel's neck. Fuck off, Jack. He'd agreed not to fight Jack for Overwatch, agreed that it was the smart way to play things, even believed it, too. Jack was military through and through. He dreamed in chain of command.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Blackwatch was Gabriel's, and Gabriel had led them to their victory in the war, and the least Jack owed him was respect for how he dealt with his own men. Jack ought to have known, because Jack had been Gabriel's, and Gabriel had not served him poorly or weakly or with anything less than his whole capacity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can say no, son," Jack said. It was certainly for his own conscience. Gabriel had not offered McCree another option and McCree knew better than to ask for one, and Jack was deluding himself if he was pretending he didn't know that and hadn't agreed to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been Jack's idea to use McCree in the fucking first place. It certainly wasn't like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel</span>
  </em>
  <span> had offered up his most loyal asset; the kid was barely field ready as it was. He couldn't deny, though, that the combination of loyalty and disposability did make McCree the perfect choice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd have to know what I was saying no to, Strike Commander," McCree said, easily, "and I'm pretty sure this ain't that kinda deal."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"See," Gabriel said, smirking, "I told you there was more than bad hair under that hat."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, yeah," Jack said. He shook his head. "Come on in, Agent."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's not an agent yet, Jack," Gabriel said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack ignored him and bent before the retina scan on the door. It slid open; he strode through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"After you, McCree." Gabriel </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> proud of the kid. He let it show, enough that some of the nervousness eased in McCree's shoulders, and he offered Gabriel a small, real, smile, and went in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel scanned the long bare stretch of hallway one last time. This shit always made him feel like someone was stepping on his grave. If only goddamn SEP could have stayed dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door hissed shut behind him. He looked around as McCree would, as if for the first time. They'd set it up like quarters, as best they could, but built in the best security measures Torbjörn could imagine. There was really no pretending that it was not a jail. But it was nice, for a jail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had entered into a shielded entry area, blocked off from the rest of the set of rooms with a thick steel wall and a reinforced door. There was also a long wide window, similarly reinforced, through which you could see the living room and the living room could see you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where they were was clearly a security station. There was a bank of camera screens, a console for environmental management. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No Athena down here," Jack murmured. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree nodded. He wasn't looking at the console; he was looking into the living room, at the couch, where the Asset was sprawled on his belly like a cat, pretending not to notice them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel leaned over and hit the intercom. "We'll give you the facts in a minute, Gramps. Keep your hat on."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Asset did not acknowledge any of this; as if he had simply been doing it all along he raised his metal hand, middle finger extended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nice," McCree said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You bet," Gabriel said. He looked beyond the glass, into the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It looked like any living room in any of the quarters on base big enough to have one: big couch, holo on the wall, two armchairs and a standing lamp to break up the soft ambient glow of the lighting strips along the ceiling and floor, which ostensibly mimicked sunlight but didn't do a particularly good job of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The suite also contained a bedroom and a bathroom, along with a kitchen eye and a little weight room with a treadmill. A nice prison. More room than any inner city apartment, but no windows. Unmistakably a prison. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't know y'all were related," McCree offered, thoughtfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"In a manner of speaking," Gabriel said. This was the part of it he'd negotiated on McCree's behalf: that he would go in as informed as they could make him. He knew the kid would go in either way, but he'd had good COs and bad ones and the difference was that trust had to go both ways. "He was - an early version. Of what we are now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Asset was dressed loosely, in sweatpants and a t-shirt. They'd offered him shoes but he liked to be barefoot, liked to be able to touch everything around him with bare skin. He pretended to ignore them, only the slight coil of muscle along his back giving it away. His hair curled around his ears; he'd cut it himself, with scissors Jack had put down in front of him before leaving the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah," McCree said. "Like Cap?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not quite," Gabriel said. "More government property than Cap. Incidentally, don't say a goddamn word about Cap where he can hear it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree nodded, clearly confused, but didn't interrupt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We'd like you to meet him," Jack said. "We need to see how dangerous he is to other people."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Other people. You mean, not supersoldiers," McCree said. He had not looked away from the body in the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. He was an - agency asset." Jack mantled his shoulders, showing McCree his discomfort. It was a good play; Gabriel had told him that shit would work on McCree. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not an agent," McCree said. There was his brain, ticking over, like Gabriel had taught him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," Gabriel said. "He didn't have much choice in the matter, as far as we can tell."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But he's not - brainwashed?" McCree looked at Gabriel for affirmation; it was close enough so Gabriel nodded. "Not brainwashed anymore?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack twisted his mouth. "We've done as much as we can. Just the two of us. We need to take the next step."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree was silent for a moment. Then: "So this is the lake house." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack blinked and raised one eyebrow at Gabriel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel shrugged. "I had to say something," he said. "I told them we had a place in the Alps. Real fixer-upper."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree looked back and forth between them, but did not say anything more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I won't sugar-coat it for you," Jack said, returning to the role of earnest commander. "It's dangerous. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He's</span>
  </em>
  <span> dangerous. We can't risk someone with a higher profile in here; we can't risk any information getting out." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ideally we'd like someone like Rein," Gabriel said, gently. "Someone who can take a lot of damage and keep going. But he's an assassin, and he's trained to terminate with extreme prejudice. What does that mean, McCree?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree swallowed. "It means if he gets out then - he goes for everyone Commander Wilhelm's ever met." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And that's a scandal," Gabriel said. He lied to himself a little that he was looking for acceptance in McCree's eyes; that if he saw real, true, fear he'd pull the kid out, that he and Jack would figure something else out. He didn't find it, which was a relief. Nerves, yes, but the kid was cocky, and he was excited. Wanted a chance to prove himself, maybe. "This is serious, McCree. You're not the first choice, sure, but this is us - this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> trusting you. Understand?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree nodded. "Thank you," he said, and looked like he meant it. "So nobody else has been down here? Sir."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel let it slide. "Everyone who needs to know is aware. Nobody's getting blindsided. He's had medical treatment, under heavy sedation, with both of us present."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not Moira," McCree said, sharply, so swiftly he blinked at his own audacity, and rocked back onto his heels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not Dr O'Deorain," Jack said, shooting a look at Gabriel. "But someone with clearance."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh," McCree said, frowning like he was turning it over in his head. "Is it working?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It'd work better if he could be in a room conscious," Gabriel said. "But yes. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't." He could give McCree that, at least, and himself; it had been months since Gabriel had been beaten to a pulp, and that was encouraging. "To answer your question, though, you are going to be the first person he's met other than the two of us."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree breathed out, hard. "Oh."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sound came from the intercom, a burst of static; the Asset activating the connection from his side of the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You brought me a baby," he said, gliding to his feet. He moved like a goddamn snake, flowing to the observation window like he had no bones. "A </span>
  <em>
    <span>cowboy</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby. Come on, Reyes. I thought we were friends."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree, startled, blinked and turned his face to Gabriel. His eyes were very big under the outsized brim of the hat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You won't be in with him alone," Jack said. "Not until we think it's safe. One of us will be in with you at all times, and the other will be monitoring from outside." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It'll be Commander Morrison on the inside," Gabriel said, gentle again. "I'll be right here on comms, I'll have angles on everything that's happening. If anything goes wrong, I have a range of options from aerosol sedation to localized electrocution. You copy?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I do, sir." McCree had paled, a little; his tells more obvious now that his nerves ratcheted up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Again," Jack said, in a calm, sweet, voice, the one he'd used on kids when they were in the thick of the Crisis, "there isn't anyone else we'd trust with this. Commander Reyes knows you're smart, adaptable, and competent; this is us showing you just how loyal we think you are."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And if I so much as think about opening my damn mouth, I'll be six feet under before I can blink, and nobody'll miss me. Is that about it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack opened his mouth but Gabriel got there first. "Yeah, kid. That's about the shape of it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid sucked in a short, sharp, breath, then nodded. "Glad we all understand each other." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Asset watched all of it thoughtfully, and then went back over to the couch and sat down. He pulled out the dog-eared Thucydides Jack had brought him out of his own collection, tucked his knees up to his chest, and began to read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would have been convincing if Gabriel was a rube, but either way nothing needed to be said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack was running through the safety procedures. "If CQC becomes an issue you leave him to me and you get under cover. You don't bring any weapons in, only your clothes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can keep the hat," Gabriel said, seeing McCree's face shift to open his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree nodded. "But not my gun."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Trust me," Jack said, "any advantage it would give you is </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> outweighed by how much more dangerous he'd be with it."</span>
</p>
<p><span>"Christ," McCree said. He had still not asked </span><em><span>why. </span></em><span>He</span> <span>wouldn't. Gabriel knew that, knew </span><em><span>him. </span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>"You follow Commander Morrison," Gabriel said. "You treat him like he's between you and certain death. Because he is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hat moved down and up again. A nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He hasn't been violent," Jack said. "Not recently. But it's important that you know this, and that you stay aware."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel showed him the security, then: the cameras, the aerosol dispersals for sedative, the control of the implant that ought to shock the Asset off his feet if necessary. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's a real fuckin' jail," McCree said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"About twenty times nicer than anything you'd ever see," Gabriel said. "Just so you know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree laughed nervously, scratched at the back of his neck. "Can we, uh," he said. "Can we go in? Sirs. I'd like to pull the band-aid off, as it were."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack blinked, clearly willing to spend a further twenty minutes on instruction, but Gabriel saw the tension in McCree's skinny shoulders; he was close to a freakout, and that would do nobody any good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, you can go in," Gabriel said. "Jack?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack nodded, willing to follow his lead with McCree. It felt good to have Jack like this, attuned to Gabriel instead of the other way around. Sometimes he wondered if Jack did it on purpose, trying to smooth things out. Probably not. Jack had never cared much about Gabriel's feelings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel pressed the intercom. "You up for visitors?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Asset put the book down, pages flat on the couch, so the spine creased even more. "Wasn't under the impression this was optional," he said. "Come on in, Morrison." An easy, teeth-baring grin. "Morrison and cow-baby, that is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack made a little face, but he took off his jacket and began to unbuckle the holsters of his guns; Gabriel took them from him and placed them in the bin under the console. When McCree did the same, his hands shook a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Head up, McCree," Gabriel said, softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree jerked his chin like a puppet on a string. "Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>jefe</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second door was less secure than the outer one; it simply required Jack's thumbprint and an Asset distance of more than ten feet. The couch was just beyond that radius, and the Asset rolled into a cross-legged position on it to watch them come through. When it shut behind them he got to his feet, coming up slowly, carefully, on those bare feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm Jesse," McCree said. "Jesse McCree. You got a name?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Asset tilted his head, appraising. "Barnes." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nice to meet you," McCree said. He lifted his hand and held it out to the Asset.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fear hit Gabriel's whole body, like the water beneath the ice on that lake up north. He'd only gone in because Jack had refused to believe he would, called him a summer child and laughed. It had felt like being stabbed by a handful of knives on every square inch of skin. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt Jack move as though it was himself in motion; they'd fought together so long he could watch Jack take one breath and predict every movement after it. Tension rippled under his skin as Jack pushed forward, to get himself like a barrier between McCree and the Asset. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree didn't blink. He put his other arm out to hold Jack back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Asset looked at the offered hand for a long moment, and then he reached out with his flesh hand and shook. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The relief was like sunlight. He let out the breath he'd been holding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Relax, Reyes," the Asset - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Barnes</span>
  </em>
  <span> - said, letting go of McCree's hand. "You bring me anyone who isn't one of you two chucklefucks, I'm happy. You know what I'm saying, cowboy?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree looked at Jack and then back at Barnes, and then he let a little smile curl the corner of his mouth. "Well, those are my commanding officers," he said, "so I couldn't say even if I did, Barnes." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Jackie," Gabriel murmured, into Jack's earpiece that was only for Gabriel's voice, "how much honeypot work did Gramps get up to?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack's face remained still but very delicately he tapped two fingers against his thigh for </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, fuck. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. did i shatter you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"He wouldn't let me get a cat, sir," Jesse said, gravely.<br/>Jack looked at Gabriel. <br/>Gabriel smirked back. <br/>"Fine," Jack said. "No more. Only fish."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jesse said, "I think we should get him a cat."</p><p></p><div>
  <p>"Oh, <em>we," </em>Gabriel said. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, we," Jesse said, holding his gaze with an iron stillness Gabriel had not seen since before he had taken Jesse to the bottom of Overwatch. "I'm in this too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel said, "You can have a fish."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Two fish," Jesse countered, undaunted. "They'll be lonely otherwise." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Christ," Gabriel said, but he went with Jesse to the pet store in Zurich and paid for the stupid tank and the stupid fish and the stupid castle Jesse insisted the fish ought to have. Jesse flirted with the counter omnic and told her a long story about moving out of his dad's house into his first real apartment; Gabriel suppressed the instinct to roll his eyes and played along instead, because Jesse was right, he was in it too, and it was because Gabriel had demanded it of him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>When they finally got the tank into base, Jack met them at the elevator shaft and said, "Gabriel, seriously?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He wouldn't let me get a cat, sir," Jesse said, gravely.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack looked at Gabriel. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel smirked back. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fine," Jack said. "No more. Only fish."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They rode the elevator together, Jesse murmuring to the fish in his arms while Gabriel juggled the tank and the food and the pumps and the castle. Jack leaned against the wall of the elevator and watched them both, something still and opaque in that handsome face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack lead them down the hall to the door, holding it open for Gabriel with all his packages. His eyes went up and down Gabriel again, with that calm strangeness Gabriel could not untangle. He hated it, fiercely, inconsolably: ten years ago he would not have been able to comprehend the idea of a thought of Jack's that he could not parse from a mile away, from the heart of a firefight. Now it was like he was a stranger.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The door shut behind them. The Asset - Barnes - had gotten to his bare feet and come, peering curiously, to the glass. He had shaved today and it made him look young, closer to Jesse's age than Gabriel's or even Jack's.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>If there wasn't a scar on Gabriel's neck from when Barnes had almost ripped Gabriel's throat out with his teeth, Gabriel might buy it. But there was, so he didn't.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes had been nothing but pleasant with Jesse, trying to lull him into a false sense of security. After every meeting Jack and Gabriel showed Jesse kill footage, but it didn't seem to be all that effective; Jesse was as comfortable in there as he was out of it, which said either a lot about Barnes or a lot about Blackwatch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse went to the window, waving at Gabriel to press the intercom for him. Gabriel put down his pile of fish tank while Jack leaned against the closed door, arms empty, and smirked at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, cowboy," Barnes said. "You get some smart friends for once?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse beamed. "Nah, they're for you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes looked startled, for a second, genuinely off balance, before it soured to anger. He turned to look at Gabriel, eyes flashing. "Was this Ziegler's idea?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Come on, Barnes," Jesse said, pouring on the charm, such as it was. "You think this ain't me all over?" He clutched at his chest dramatically. "You wound me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes rolled his eyes but subsided. "Fine," he said. "You got me fish. I'm not going to kill them, Morrison. I wouldn't even if I was fully activated; nobody would ever turn me on just to kill a couple of goldfish."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You never know," Jack said, evenly. "Next step up from McCree, intelligence wise, you know."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse cackled. "Didn't think you cared, sir."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack said, "This is yours, Reyes," and slid past him into the observation seat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In three months of sporadic visitation McCree had not triggered any of the Asset protocols, and Barnes had not been hostile towards him. He hadn't been hostile towards Jack or Gabriel, either; they'd pushed a couple of the soft limits, brought in a butter knife, a folder with the HYDRA seal on it, and Barnes had simply looked away, clearly distressed but not out of control. They'd even risked the two of them inside without anyone at the console, and that had been fine, too. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>That had reassured Jack enough to bring in Ana and Rein and Torbjörn, though Torbjörn had preferred to stay on the other side of the intercom. Gabriel would have preferred to wait, but Jack's guilt spoke for him, and it didn't feel worth the fight. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had insisted on Ziegler, though, through the intercom and then with both him and Jack, Rein as backup, Ana on the console. Barnes had not responded <em>well</em>, exactly, but he had not successfully hurt anyone else, so it counted on balance as a win. Ziegler was going to help him, so he'd really have to suck it up. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel stepped out of his holsters and handed them to Jack, with his knives following after. He reached back for the tank, feeling Jack's eyes on him. "You good, Jackie?" he murmured, so soft it was barely within his range of hearing. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack looked over at Jesse, busy chattering at Barnes and the fish, and then back to Gabriel. "Be careful," he said, pitched the same as Gabriel. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Always am, Strike Commander." He raised his voice back to the normal human range. "Jesse, take your guns off."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, okay." Jesse put the fish down on the console, ignoring Jack's expression of distaste. Pulled his guns away delicately, at least, with at least as much care as he'd given the fish. The guns went into the bin by Jack's feet, Jesse's own knives following after. He stretched his arms above himself after. "You first or me, <em>jefe</em>?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Tank first," Barnes said. "Tell me someone told you how to set it up before you dragged it all the way here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I have instructions!" Jesse said, pulling a printout out of his back pocket and waving it at Barnes. "I've never had fish, you know that? Once I found puppies, but you know, that didn't end so good." He trailed off and looked back down at the fish.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was probably a play but it did seem to work: Barnes looked at Gabriel, considering, and there was a slight softness in his face. It might have been a trick of the light. "Reyes, you bring the tank."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure thing, Grandpa," Gabriel said, hoisting it up again. "See you in a second, kid."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He thumbed the door open and went through. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was different to be alone with Barnes, in here. He usually left it to Jack, because even though Jack set Barnes' teeth on edge Barnes listened to him. Gabriel didn't have that kind of history with him, only the one they were both aware of, so it was different. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes' teeth gleamed. He padded across the floor and took the tank from Gabriel's hands. "We have to go to the couch," Barnes reminded him. "Or it won't open again." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack was watching from the other side of the glass, leaning forward in the chair. His fingers crossed over each other to make a cradle for his chin to rest there. He looked like he did in the glamour shots, the ones with him in full uniform signing UN declarations. It was fucking absurd that he could also have stepped right out of any of the battlefields in Gabriel's memory, his hands curled around the gun and those eyes intent on saving Gabriel's life.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They went to the couch. "Where do you want the tank?" Gabriel asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know," Barnes said, thoughtfully. "Boy, that thing is big."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel laughed. "The kid went all out," he said. "There's a castle for the fish."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes leaned forward; automatically Gabriel stepped back, power coiling through him as he remembered what the Winter Soldier looked like on mission; he'd rely on the metal hand, always did. Torb had suggested they depower it but both Gabriel and Jack had immediately shut that down. They were holding the guy but they weren't going to amputate a limb. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Just looking," Barnes said, seeing him do it. "Don't flip your wig, Reyes." But he held both palms up, so the metal one shone under the fluorescent light. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel bit back the urge to apologise. Instead he held the tank out to Barnes. "It's a nice castle," he said. "I'm sure the fish will appreciate it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse clattered in, somehow incredibly loud despite his socked feet, which he wore because Gabriel made him leave those goddamn spurs outside every time. He held the fish out in their plastic box. "Happy Birthday," he said. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's not my birthday, kid," Barnes said. "If it was, I'd want a cake." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What flavour?" Jesse asked. "If you don't say anything I'm going with pickle." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's not a flavour," Barnes said, taking the fish delicately. He looked down into the transport tank, eyes widening as he did. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wanna find out?" Jesse grinned. "It's the future now, we got all kinds of dessert. Come on. Vanilla? Chocolate? Strawberry?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Where'd they find <em>you</em>," Barnes groused, still staring at the fish. "Fine. Chocolate."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like the boss," Jesse crowed. "Hear that? Maybe you can share a party."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>This time Gabriel did not suppress the urge to cuff Jesse upside the head. "Settle down," he said, readjusting the hat on Jesse's head. "Come on, let's get this tank set up."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse pulled the paper out of his pocket and handed it over. Fucking paper, Jesus.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel smoothed it out with his palm. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse coughed. "Do you want it in the bedroom?" he asked. "Or out here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes did better with options; Jesse was reminding Gabriel. Barnes did best with direct orders, but obviously that wasn't sustainable. Gabriel knew this and had explained it to Jesse in the first place. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Out here," Barnes said, with determination. "I don't want them watching me sleep."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You got it," Jesse said. "Boss?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel scanned the instructions. "We have to set up the tank first, give it a day to stabilise. Jesse, god damn, couldn't you have read this first?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse shrugged. "Didn't want to give you time to reconsider," he says. Grins. "Sir."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack laughed in his ear, raucous. "Good job, Gabe. Outfoxed by a wild cowboy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel put his palm behind his back, where only Jack's cameras would see it; very deliberately he folded back his index, ring, and little fingers. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse was throwing out possible tank positions, while Barnes continued to cradle the portable tank, now in the crook of one elbow, and look around the room with careful eyes. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Corner?" Jesse asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Corner," Barnes agreed. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>They had to mount the tank on a stand and pour sand into the bottom of it, fill it a third full and add enzymes and a water heater. Gabriel directed, reading off instructions and frowning at the little pH measure he was supposed to clip to the side of the tank. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This is a lot more complicated than I thought two fish would be," Jack said, watching them through the windowpane. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Come in here and help, then," Barnes said, amicably. He'd stripped off his overshirt and was down to an undershirt that left both arms bare; Jesse's eyes skittered over him and away, guiltily, like Gabriel wouldn't see it. Gabriel let it slide; Jesse was eighteen, after all. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack hummed. "You're doing so well, though. Wouldn't want to break up the dream team."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shut up, Steve," Barnes said, lazily but full of warmth, and <em>fuck</em> - </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel had Jesse behind him before the words had even had time to sink in. Jesse was well trained - he better be, Gabriel had done it himself - and he stayed close to Gabriel's back, not obtrusive, but in his blind spot. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Steve," Barnes said, eyes clouding over. Jesse hadn't seen this in person, though they'd been clear that innocuous things would set Barnes off. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jack's voice was easy in Gabriel's ear, mission-easy, the confident timbre of Gabriel's partner covering his six. "Coming in in five." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel swept his eyes to the window and back to Barnes. Jack had been sitting in his chair, looking bored. Bored meant nothing; he'd be there, physically at Gabriel's side, in three hundred seconds. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes was making a confused sound, a kind of growl. He turned his head back and forth like there was something in it he couldn't get out. The metal hand had made itself a fist. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The misidentification set him off. If Jack allowed him to think he was talking to Rogers he'd mellow, but crash later. This was faster, but a lot up front. Gabriel assumed it had been some kind of conditioning to stop the Asset making his own assumptions, thinking of Rogers on his own. It was smart but tricky, since Rogers was also associated with the handlers, but it would have been important to remove any risk of the Asset recovering his own memories independently. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>They were three years into Barnes living under Overwatch and Gabriel could count on one hand the number of genuine memories he'd shared with them. The closest he'd get was occasional 1940s slang, which they'd only identified because Jack had looked it up. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, Gramps," Gabriel said, in a low, soothing voice. "You all right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes growled and leapt at him. Okay: not so all right.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Jesse, <em>back</em>," Gabriel ordered, letting Barnes take him to the ground. He was big and strong enough to slow their descent, take them so they landed on their sides instead of Gabriel's back. Gabriel could leverage that so he did, one hand cradling the back of Barnes' head to protect it while he threw the rest of his weight onto Barnes' chest. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The metal fist caught him in the cheek. Hurt like a son of a bitch, but he was fast enough to catch it in his other hand, which was flesh but still very, very, strong. He didn't waste the breath to curse, but he thought <em>fuck</em> and held on tight. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse was silent, perfectly trained. Thank god that Gabriel had trained him. A curse on Gabriel's house that Jesse didn't have a gun with him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes shook his head again, hair tossing against the palm of Gabriel's hand. "Reyes?" He blinked, eyes clearing. "Oh, fuck."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah," Gabriel said. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Tank's okay," Jesse said. He had gone to stand beside it, and the transport container with the fish in it was in his hands. "These guys, too." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>In Gabriel's earpiece Jack murmured, <em>you need me? </em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel let go of Barnes' head, but remained straddling his chest. He used the now-free hand to tap one finger on the floor. He could handle it; Jack would only make it worse. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit," Barnes said. He lay there limply under Gabriel, face twisted and uncomfortable. "Reyes, your face." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, thanks for that one, Gramps," Gabriel said. "Nice hook." He looked a little longer and then said, "Can I get off you now?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Fish okay, McCree?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not too worried," Jesse said, as though Barnes had simply dropped a cup and the shards were in the carpet. "They're pretty hard to rattle." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good." Barnes let his head fall back into the carpet, closed his eyes. It laid his neck bare for Gabriel, which was probably the intention.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel stood up carefully, still holding the metal fist. His face did hurt, but it wouldn't last long; these things never did. "I think we're done for the day, Jesse." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse made a soft, startled sound, but he didn't protest. He simply put the fish down on the coffee table and said, "See you later, Barnes." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel waved him out through the door, watched every movement carefully until he was clear. He knew Jack's eyes were on Barnes. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I swear," Barnes said, softly, lying there. "I didn't - it wasn't me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know," Gabriel said. "Listen, there's some plants in there, I think you can put em in now. Save the castle for the kid, though, huh?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah," Barnes said. "All right." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel did not smile at him. He took the long way to the door, so that at no point would he have his back to Barnes. "Bye, Gramps."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The door shut behind him and Jack sighed. "He was doing so well," he said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"These things happen," Gabriel said. He allowed himself to reach up and touch the sore side of his cheek. "Jesus, that thing's heavy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're out of practice," Jack said, ruefully. He looked over at Jesse, who was standing stiffly against the wall. "McCree, that's why you don't get friendly. Understand?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse darted his eyes to Gabriel, as though Gabriel would countermand Jack. When he didn't, Jesse sighed. "I do, Strike Commander." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'll wait for him to settle down," Jack said, easily. "You two go on up." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel could have said something else but he didn't. He nodded his thanks and herded Jesse out, into the elevator and then the other one, where they were supposed to part; Jesse for barracks, Gabriel for officer's quarters. Jesse stuck close to him, instead. He tailed Gabriel all the way into his quarters, which technically he wasn't supposed to do but Gabriel also wasn't supposed to have recruited a sixteen year old, so sometimes they played a little fast and loose with the regs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I have work to do," Gabriel said. "What is it?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse hovered in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. Looked up meaningfully into the corner of the ceiling, where the camera was. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel sighed. "Athena, stop monitoring." He gave his authorization. "Jesse, get in here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse got. The door slid shut behind him, and he looked around Gabriel's quarters like he'd never seen them before, as if Gabriel hadn't cooked him dinner here once a week the first six months he was on base, when he'd had an ankle monitor and a mouth Gabriel regularly fantasised about washing out with soap. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel went to the fridge and got himself a beer, one of the godforsaken European ones that were all you could get out here, and then another for Jesse. "Spit it out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse looked at Gabriel's hand and then down at the floor. He clenched his hands into loose fists at his sides. "You don't talk to him like a person," he said. "And then you wonder why he doesn't act like one."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's <em>dangerous</em>, Jesse. He's a weapon." So this was gonna happen. Fine. Gabriel cracked his beer open and put the other one on the counter. Took a long swallow and let Jesse swelter in the weight of his gaze. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse jerked his head up, like a challenge. "And I was a dirty good-for-nothing gun runner, but you talked to me like it mattered. That's why I went with you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You came with me because the other option was <em>jail</em>, McCree. Don't romanticise it." He could hear how he sounded, ugly and mean. That didn't mean he wasn't right. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You think I wouldn't have gotten out? Boss, please."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel sighed hard. "They'd have put you in Supermax. You can think whatever you want, but you'd have stayed put." But, something abrasive settling in his chest, "You were a kid. Don't - you <em>are</em> a kid. You got a bad hand."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You gettin' soft on me? Come on." He smiled, though, a flash of pink tongue in the toothy grin. "This is Bucky Barnes, World War Two hero. How long have you spent trying to save him? Five years? More?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Seven," Gabriel said. "Don't, Jesse. This is as good as it's gonna get. You want me to pull you out? I will if I think you're compromised." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's bullshit," Jesse spat, and then he brought his hand up to his mouth and blinked as if he was startled by his own words. But he didn't back down, waiting for Gabriel to speak first, maybe. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel said nothing. He kept his face impassive. He wanted to see how much deeper Jesse would dig his hole.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse swallowed, like he did when they sparred and his mouth filled with blood, and continued. "You want to talk about compromised? You've kept him for seven years, Boss. Pretty sure that's a violation of the international charter of human rights. You're always telling me I'm a UN employee, gotta stay on top of these things."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know how to read? Who'd have thought." Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his face impassive. "You think where he came from was better than this? Really?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse shrugged stiffly. "I don't know," he said. "But I know what you look like with him, you and the Strike Commander both."</p>
</div><p>"And what's that?" </p><p></p><div>
  <p>Jesse did step back, then, maybe taken aback by the sharpness in Gabriel's voice. Good; Gabriel was done playing big brother. Jesse needed to remember who and what he was. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel pressed the advantage, taking one step forward and then another. He was taller than Jesse, and broader; he'd cut Jesse a great deal of slack, commensurate with what he'd asked of the kid, but maybe he'd let the leash go slack. Gabriel was a super soldier. The strictest constraints they'd put on Barnes would maybe - <em>maybe</em> - be able to hold Gabriel himself. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Agent McCree," Gabriel said, firmly. He looked down at the kid, caught his chin and tilted it up so he had to meet Gabriel's eyes. "How <em>exactly</em> are the Strike Commander and I?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse struggled like a fish on a hook, wriggling around with none of the grace Gabriel had taught him for getting out of unwanted holds. Even if he had given it his best Gabriel wouldn't have let him go, but that was beside the point. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>You're </em>compromised," Jesse panted, finally. "Both of you. You're not behaving objectively."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Seven years," Gabriel snapped. "You think anyone else would do that?" He thought, suddenly, fiercely, of the look in Jack's eyes that first day down there, in the rubble of the SEP. The way he looked when Gabriel pressed for information. His mouth tasted sour. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel had run agents. Gabriel was going to run Jesse. He wouldn't feel bad about it when he did. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>There was nothing Barnes had done under orders that Gabriel hadn't done, or wouldn't do without blinking. He knew that. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're making it worse," Jesse said. "Angie thinks so, too. You treat him like a weapon and he acts like one. He doesn't remember things and you're so scared he'll flip out that you don't think that not being a person is worse."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I saved your fucking life in there," Gabriel said. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And thank you, boss, but I don't know that he was <em>going </em>to get violent." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, I know," Gabriel said, "and that's why I get paid to think, and you don't. Go the fuck to bed." It was eighteen hundred hours, but what the fuck ever: Ana was always telling Gabriel that Jesse was a growing kid who needed his sleep.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse glared at him, poisonously angry in a way Gabriel had not seen him since Deadlock. "Yes, sir," he drawled, snapping a perfect - and therefore insolent - salute, before he turned on his heel and left. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel drank his beer while the spurs jangled their way down the hall, and went to do his fucking paperwork. How that shit multiplied was beyond him, it was like the reports were breeding. He looked away for five minutes and ten more appeared. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel worked all night and went to bed late; by the time he hit the sheets the mark the Winter Soldier had left on him was gone. He slept fine, because he'd been active duty for ten years of literal war.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But - fuck. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighed and took a mug of coffee to Jesse's door. "Open up, kid."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The tousled head poked around the door. "Fuck," Jesse said. "Is this special sparring practice with Commander Reyes? Because I'm very, very not awake yet, and -" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"McCree," Gabriel said. "Shut your mouth."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse swallowed audibly and nodded. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Get dressed," Gabriel said. "Five minutes." He held the mug out and Jesse took it, wide eyed and compliant. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel did three spot checks for fun and came back to find Jesse in training gear, holding out the mug. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"There's, uh, still some left? If you want it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"McCree," Gabriel sighed. "Okay, just bring it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse put his hat on his head and followed Gabriel down the hall. They walked in silence until they got to the third elevator, the one without Athena. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry, boss," Jesse said carefully. "I shouldn't have - said any of that, last night. I know I don't have all the facts. It wasn't my place."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It wasn't," Gabriel said, calmly, without recrimination. "But we have to get those fish in that tank, so let's go."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, sir," Jesse said. He dogged Gabriel down the hallway, a respectful distance between them but close enough that Gabriel would feel his obedience. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You can go in," Gabriel said, when he'd let them both into the suite and Barnes had raised a hand in welcome from the other side of the window. "I'll run control." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh," Jesse said. He blinked. "Yes, sir," he said, again. Gabriel had figured he would like it when Jesse McCree finally cut the backtalk but it turned out it made him feel uncomfortable and off-balance, hairs prickling at the back of his neck. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, Gramps," Gabriel said, settling into the seat. He took Jesse's gun from him and his spurs and knife; this time Jesse handed everything over without a moment's hesitation, without the little frown he usually tried to suppress before he went in. "How're the fish?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"They're good," Barnes said, without turning to look at Gabriel; he knew where the cameras were. He was sitting in front of the tank, legs split in a v while he stared into it. He was frowning, a little furrow carved into his brow. "How's your face?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Better than new," Gabriel said, thinking about what Jesse had said, allowing his voice to slide into the tone he'd use with a fresh recruit who'd landed a lucky hit. "You did my nanites a favour, they've been getting lazy." The nanites were new, actually. He liked them though. Not enough to bring O'Deorain down here, with Barnes, but to make himself a better weapon? Of course.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse breezed through the door, rolling his shoulders back; that easy smile drew across his face, the one that apparently worked on new recruits and Barnes. "Howdy, pardner." He went to Barnes' side and peered into the tank. "You put the plants in."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wanted to wait for you," Barnes said. "For the castle and the fish."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Aw," Jesse said. "Thank you." The smile shifted into something more real, more tentative. "I appreciate that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They worked companiably; Gabriel was soothed to see Jesse keep a reasonable distance from Barnes, and that Barnes in turn did not push it. Barnes whistled low under his breath at the castle and Jesse grinned at the compliment. Finally it was time for the transport tank to adhere to the side of the larger one, so the little fish could acclimate to their new home. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"They look good," Jesse said, settling onto one knee to look at the tank. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah," Barnes said. "It's nice to have some company in here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You got names for em?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Flynn and Wayne," Barnes said. "Flynn's the one with the little nock in his tail." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You named them after cowboys? Barnes, I knew you liked me." Jesse's grin was flashbang-bright, and as he grinned he allowed his body to shift sideways, so that he was facing Barnes, and had moved a little closer towards him than was strictly well-advised.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like a fungus," Barnes said. He had not pulled away and was looking at Jesse, carefully. He sighed and something changed in his face, made it more serious and more open at once. "I almost hurt you yesterday. And you're in here alone, today." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's good that you remember, right? I think they were saying that you would lose time." Jesse laid his hands down on his thighs, palms-up; defenceless, open. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't think it's good that I almost hurt you." Barnes' voice was low and intent; so low Gabriel wondered if he was trying to keep it away from surveillance. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, I think it's good that you didn't." Jesse shrugged. "I've been almost hurt pretty much every day I've been alive, Barnes, my friend. You learn to get real friendly with the concept of <em>almost.</em>"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes blinked. But he didn't protest.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I killed people, before," Jesse said. "Because they told me to, because it seemed like a good idea, because it was fun. I didn't care. I wasn't - nobody brainwashed me. I just did it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fiercely, fervently, Barnes said, "You were a child."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah?" Jesse said. "Coulda said no, though."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What would have happened if you had?" Barnes held the metal hand down with the flesh one, against his own thigh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shallow grave, probably," Jesse said, tilting his head to look into the water. "They weren't real understanding folks." He bared his teeth in a not quite grin. "I wasn't real understanding, either, when I was one of em."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes exhaled. "It isn't the same." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay," Jesse said, amiably. "You want anything else for the tank? If I tell Reyes I'm going out to get stuff he might let me off-base unsupervised."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You just told both of us you used to like murder," Barnes said, a half-smile curving that cautious mouth. "I think that's probably not gonna happen."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't do it no <em>more</em>," Jesse squawked, good humour rolling off his easy smile and open hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"McCree," Gabriel said, over the intercom. He kept his voice as gentle as he could. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, sir," Jesse said, perhaps understanding that Gabriel's good nature was done being pressed. He got to his feet, complaining like a man three times his age. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes watched him thoughtfully from the floor, but only waved when Jesse went to the door. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"See you soon, I hope," Jesse said. "Take care of my niece and nephew. Wayne's the niece." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Barnes smiled. "You bet."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel buzzed the door open for him and handed back his guns. "You want to go to the city?" he asked. "Angie'll take you, if you want." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse looked over at Barnes, who was pretending to ignore them, and slipped his foot into his boot. "I don't want to bother her," he said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But not me. I'm fine to bother." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jesse grinned, but didn't meet Gabriel's eyes. "You got it, boss." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I need five minutes to lock up," Gabriel said. "You can leave if you want." He turned back to the console. He had to wrap up a report for Jack; he'd get it for being down here without telling Jack first, but Jack would get over it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Goldfish can remember things for at least five months," Jesse said, lingering. "Not three seconds, like people say, but still not that long of a time. That's why I picked them for him. So everything would be new for them, too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gabriel's chest <em>ached</em>, just for a second. "You are so goddamn lucky I pulled you out of the shitfucking desert," he said. "Kid, I swear."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know," Jesse said. "Boss, I <em>know</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know, I know, fishtanks are more complicated than that but pretend fishtank tech is more advanced in the future! Bucky's goldfish are happy and well cared for, unlike Bucky, who should absolutely not be held in indefinite detention by two people who are too busy with their ptsd to do good mental healthcare, but alas! Paramilitary organizations do not breed sensible behaviour.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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